


Curve Ball

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-07
Updated: 2006-08-07
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: Harry's revelation causes Ron to see his relationships with Harry and Hermione in a whole new light





	Curve Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: This is a prequel to my story [Switch Hit](http://magicofisis.livejournal.com/86689.html), because [](http://shocolate.livejournal.com/profile)[**shocolate**](http://shocolate.livejournal.com/) wanted to hear the conversation of Ron trying to convince Hermione to take it up the arse. Ron and Hermione are not getting on well, so it's a bit angsty – she's using her most powerful weapon, of course. Thanks to my lovely beta, Kate, who gave this the thumbs-up despite it's het-ness. I love her so! And yes, the irony of using a baseball term for the title of a fic written for a British woman is not lost on me.  


* * *

Something about Harry had been off all night. Every time Ron tried to engage him in conversation, his voice was too bright, and his answers too artificial. At one point, he'd inadvertently brushed against Harry's arm and Harry had pulled back as if he'd been burned. Finally, he couldn't take the weirdness anymore.

“Harry, mate, what the hell is the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” Harry answered far too quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Fine, my arse. I think I know you well enough to be able to tell when something is wrong. So spill it.”

Harry stared at him intensely for a moment before slumping onto the sofa. “I’m not sure you’re going to like what I have to say.”

“Since when does _that_ make a difference? You’ve told me plenty of things I didn’t want to hear,” answered Ron.

“Yeah, but those things were about you, and somebody had to tell you. This is about me and, well, it’s personal. I just don’t want to freak you out.”

Ron stared at his best mate. “Come off it, Harry. I was pretty calm that time you told me about the prophecy and being the Chosen One. Is it any worse than that?”

Harry glanced up, looking grateful that Ron had put it in perspective. “No, I guess not. Okay. I, er… I’ve started dating someone.”

Ron’s eyes widened, and he smiled. “That’s great, Harry. But why would that freak me out? Unless… it’s not Pansy Parkinson or, you know, McGonagall, or someone like that, is it?”

Harry laughed. “No, of course not.”

“Then who is she?”

“His name is Jack.”

A heavy silence fell between them. It took a moment for Harry’s words to sink into Ron’s brain, and when they did, he was completely gobsmacked. His best mate – the boy he’d known since his first day at Hogwarts – was gay. Well, that was… interesting. Ron noticed that Harry’s eyes were darting around the room, looking everywhere but at him, and he knew he had to say something.  
  
“So, um, you’re gay,” Ron said eloquently.

“Yeah,” nodded Harry. “I tried to be straight, really I did.”

“So you dated Ginny.”

A sad expression crossed Harry’s face. “I still like her very much. But to be honest, the idea of doing anything more than kissing… Well, let’s just say that I don’t exactly fantasize about women.”

The implication was that Harry _did_ fantasize about men, and that was just a little too much information for Ron. So he promptly redirected the conversation.

“So this bloke, Jack… Is he someone I’ve met before?” Ron knew several Jacks, none of whom seemed remotely gay to him. But then again, neither did Harry.

Harry smiled, undoubtedly knowing that Ron was far more unnerved by his confession than he let on. “Yeah. We met him at Oliver Wood’s Christmas party. Remember? He was the blond who could do that weird trick with his tongue.”

Ron did remember Jack and recalled how enchanted Harry had been with him. Ron had left them alone to talk for nearly an hour while he and George had played wizard’s pool. And now, thanks to Harry’s description, he had a picture in his head of that guy doing the weird tongue thing while kissing Harry.

He chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I remember him. Nice bloke.”

“So, um, you’re all right with this?” asked Harry nervously.

Ron had no idea how to answer the question. It had come from so far out of the blue that he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt. Still, it did put his mind to rest knowing that Harry wouldn't decide to go after Hermione. With as rocky as things were between them, Ron didn’t rate his chances of being her first choice.

“It’s just a shock, that’s all,” Ron answered. “We’ve lived in each other’s back pocket for so long, it’s hard to grasp that I don’t know you quite as well as I thought I did.”

“It’s pretty new for me,” said Harry. “This is the first time I’ve actually gone on dates and stuff.” Harry blushed, and refused to look Ron in the eye again.

Actually, Ron was fine with Harry going on dates – why shouldn’t he be? It was the ‘and stuff’ that he was having a hard time wrapping his brain around. He’d never thought about making out with another bloke, but he supposed it wouldn’t be that much different than him making out with Hermione. He wondered what she would think of all this.

“Have you said anything to Hermione yet?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, but I’m going to have to soon. I didn’t want either of you to find out by reading it in _Witch Weekly_ or something. I mean, obviously I hope to keep out of the tabloids, but you know how they are.”

“Yeah, I suppose that would make for a good story.” Ron paused, not knowing what else to say. He had so many questions, but he didn’t know how to ask them without sounding like a homophobe. He was okay with Harry being gay – really, it didn’t much matter to him either way. But he wanted to know things like whether Harry had ever watched him in the showers after Quidditch, and whether it was still okay to wrestle over the last chocolate frog. And what was sex like if you didn’t have any squishy breasts to fondle or a warm, wet pussy to push into.

The silence between them grew awkward as Ron tried to figure out what he should do with this new information and Harry appeared too nervous to speak. "So this bloke, Jack – have you been seeing him for very long?"

"Three or four weeks, I'd guess. He's stayed over a couple times when you've been at Hermione's," Harry blushed as he said it, leaving Ron with no doubt as to what they'd been doing in his absence.

Ron wasn't sure what to do to make the situation less uncomfortable. Perhaps if he convinced Harry he was fine with him having 'boyfriend' – oh, but that just sounded so strange – then he could convince himself that everything was back to normal.

"You don't have to wait until I leave to invite him over," said Ron cautiously. "It's your flat just as much as mine. Except if he moves in, we'll be splitting the bills three ways." He grinned at Harry, hoping to convey that he was joking.

"It's a bit early for that. I would like you to get to know him, though. He's got a wicked sense of humor, and he knows almost as much about the Quidditch league as you do."

Ron seized on the Quidditch topic and promptly redirected the conversation away from Harry's personal life and dating to more neutral subjects. He only wished he could switch his thoughts that easily.

~*~*~

Hermione was completely unfazed by the news that Harry was gay. She hinted that she'd suspected as much, but she wouldn't elaborate until Ron rather unfairly accused her of having a crush on Harry. It was then that she admitted Ginny confiding in her that she thought there was something wrong with Harry because he never pestered her for sex.

Predictably, Ron erupted into a tirade that included calling his sister many derogatory names and defending Harry's sense of honor. Hermione got tired of hearing him rant, so she told him to go home without so much as a goodnight kiss. Ron was quite agitated by the time he returned to his flat.

He was not alone in the flat, however. Ron saw a few empty beer bottles and an extra pair of shoes he didn't recognize. He was about to call out to Harry when he noticed a strip of light coming from beneath Harry's bedroom door. He moved a few steps closer.

"Damn it, Jack! Just fuck me, you tease," came Harry's voice through the door. Ron's jaw dropped as Harry continued, "With your cock, not just your tongue. Need more. Now."

Ron hurried to his bedroom and shut the door. What the fuck were they doing in there? Well, he knew what they were doing, but _God_! Jack was fucking him with his tongue? That was disgusting, although potentially intriguing. Was that the sort of thing that gay men did to each other, or was this Jack bloke merely kinky?

Ron got into bed, but found himself unable to get to sleep. Knowing that just across the hall, Harry was getting buggered in some kinky fashion or another was too distracting.

Wrapping his hand around his unbidden erection, Ron pictured his mate sprawled out on the bed, his raven hair a fright as sweat poured down his brow. On top of him, Ron could picture Jack looking intensely into Harry's eyes while he pounded into him. He could hear Harry moaning, but was unable to distinguish whether it was real or just his imagination. Within a matter of minutes, Ron felt the tension mounting in his balls, and he let out his own loud moan as he came hard.

Ron finally fell asleep having forgot all about his argument with Hermione and more than a little bit worried about his sudden obsession with gay sex.

~*~*~

As Ron got to know Jack better, he became less and less impressed. It seemed to him that Jack was overly demanding and bossy and he took advantage of Harry's generous nature. Harry just seemed to accept this treatment and went along with whatever Jack said, even if it was ludicrous. Yet Ron didn't feel as if he could really say anything to Harry, because he didn't want to sound like he was condemning Harry's lifestyle – he just didn't care for Harry's choice in men.

They did seem to have sex a lot, though. Ron figured that the advantage of dating a bloke was that you both wanted sex all the time and there was none of that withholding-sex-as-punishment business that Hermione always seemed to do with him.

Ron was relieved to learn that Harry and Jack were going out on the evening he'd invited his mum to the flat for dinner, because he didn't want to have to explain the strange noises that might be coming from Harry's bedroom. He wasn't about to discuss Harry's sex life with her.

In preparation for her arrival, he tidied up the lounge a bit, sorting miscellaneous junk into two piles: one of Harry's things and one of his. He banished his own pile to his bedroom, but he didn't know where to send Harry's, so he carried them back to Harry's room. Carefully setting them on the floor next to the wardrobe, his eye fell on the title of a book that was haphazardly sticking out from Harry's bookcase. _The Gay Wizard Sex Companion._ Well, now, that was useful. Ron could indulge in his gay sex obsession without having to ask Harry any potentially embarrassing questions.

Ron deftly plucked the book from Harry's bookcase and banished it to his bedroom for some bedtime reading later that night. Judging from the amount of practice he'd been getting, Ron doubted that Harry would need to refer to that book any time soon.

~*~*~

Hermione was working late again, so Ron thought he'd settle in for another session with Harry's book, tossing off and then making it an early night. At the moment, his eyes were riveted to a stimulating description of 'rimming', while his hand methodically worked up and down his shaft. _God – so that's_ what Jack had been doing to Harry that night – _rimming_. As he read through the description of the sensation, it made total sense that Harry would have been so aroused. He tried to imagine Hermione doing that to him and almost burst into sarcastic laughter. Hermione wouldn't even swallow when she gave him a blowjob ("too unhygienic"); he was certain she'd never try rimming. And she'd probably call him a pervert for even bringing it up.

Now that he'd read all about it, he closed his eyes and imagined Harry lying on his back with his legs spread wide while Ron knelt over him and tongue-fucked him. He could still remember the moans Harry had made when Jack did it, and the thought of him being able to make Harry moan like that brought him right to the edge of his climax. A few more strokes and he spent himself, making a mess of his hand, stomach and sheets. Fortunately, he missed the book.

He'd just cleaned up with a charm when there was a knock on his bedroom door. Ron shoved the book far under his pillow before calling, "Come in."

Harry poked his head inside. "Sorry to bother you, but I saw your light was still on. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Ron nodded, and as Harry came closer, he could tell that something was terribly wrong. Harry looked defeated, the same way he always looked when someone told him bad news. "What's the matter?" asked Ron.

Harry opened his mouth twice to speak, but no words came out either time. Finally, he shrugged and muttered, "We broke up."

"You and Jack? You've got to be joking," said Ron in disbelief. Harry shook his head. "It's probably just as well you dumped him – I never thought he treated you very well."

Harry climbed onto Ron's bed, hugging his legs and tucking his knees under his chin. "But I didn't dump him – he dumped me."

Ron's eyes shot open wide, and if he'd been wearing any pants, he'd have leapt out of bed to hunt that loser down. "Nobody dumps you. You're Harry Potter. And you're wonderful," snapped Ron, indignantly.

Harry looked at him with grateful, yet sad eyes. "Apparently I'm too famous and he's tired of never being able to go out with me without being stalked by fans and reporters."

Ron couldn't believe his ears. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Was that the only reason he gave you?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "No. He also said I was boring and that I have bad hair."

"What a fuckwit! You're well rid of him, if you ask me. As if you could ever be boring." Ron watched as Harry's shoulders drooped. "Hey," he said, laying a hand on Harry's foot, "are you gonna be okay?"

Ron noticed Harry's eyes glistening, as if he were trying to hold off tears. Damn it – nobody hurt Harry and lived to tell about it. He'd be owling Fred and George first thing in the morning to get their nastiest practical joke to play on old Jack.

"Yeah," Harry said in a rough voice, "I'll live. It's just that I fancied myself in love with him. And to realize he doesn't feel the same… well, it really hurts."

Ron felt completely useless as he watched Harry try to keep himself together. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. Do you want to get drunk?"

Harry smiled sadly. "Not tonight. I just want to be alone for a while. Thanks anyway."

"My door is always open," said Ron, clapping Harry lightly on the shoulder. Harry slid off the bed and shut the door as he left the room.

Ron fell asleep plotting ways to make Jack sorry that he ever hurt Harry.

~*~*~

By the time Ron had worked his way through Harry's entire book, he was more knowledgeable about gay sex than many gay wizards. It really wasn't all that different from heterosexual sex, he supposed, but he had a hunch that doing some of those things he'd read about was harder than it seemed.

There were definitely a few things he wanted to try with Hermione if he could get her to be a bit more open-minded. He knew, for example, that quite a few witches were willing to try anal sex, and that was on the top of his list. And he'd dearly love to have her rub his prostate, although not if she was wearing those scary fake fingernails that she sometimes put on for a night out with the girls. Perhaps if he was really good and didn't say anything to annoy her for a whole day, she might consent to try some new stuff. It wouldn't hurt to ask, anyway.

This was why he spent a perfectly dreadful afternoon tagging along behind Hermione as she perused a new exhibit at the local Muggle public library. She'd been suspicious when he'd offered to take her, and for the most part, she ignored him. They'd stopped at her favorite café for a light supper and she offered to open a bottle of expensive wine – a gift from her colleague at the Ministry – once they settled into her flat for the evening.

Ron's tongue was practically sore from biting it so that he wouldn't say the wrong thing and spoil her wonderful mood. He wasn't sure what it was about Hermione that made her so touchy – his sister was never this moody. But then again, he tended to walk away from Ginny anytime she started in on him, so who really knew if it was a female trait. In any event, Ron had behaved like a perfect gentleman – a perfect boyfriend – all afternoon, and as soon as she finished her glass of wine, Ron was going to see if he could talk her into a bit of sexual adventure.

"The library exhibit was fun," he said, venturing a toe into the minefield.

Hermione snickered. "Ron, it couldn't have been plainer that you were bored to tears, but yes, I did enjoy it. Thank you for indulging me."

He nodded. "Well, you know, libraries aren't really my cup of tea, but I did like watching you do something you really wanted to do."

"Next time, we'll do something you enjoy," she said.

Ron waggled his eyebrows. "How about now? I bet you can even guess what it is." He brushed her hair to one side and kissed her neck from earlobe to collarbone.

"It's not difficult to guess when you're so obvious," said Hermione, taking another sip of wine. "And I think it could be arranged. Just give me a minute and we can go to bed."

Ron waited until she left the room before rolling his eyes. Hermione was the least spontaneous person he knew. And her pre-bed ritual was entirely predictable. First she would feed the cat and clean up any dishes left in the kitchen. Then she'd go into her office and straighten up her papers, making sure that all correspondence received had been replied to. When that was finished, she would brush and floss her teeth, braid her hair so that it wouldn't get in the way during sex and put on her flannel nightgown, despite the fact that she would only wear it for an average of seven minutes.

For his part, Ron used the loo, performed a cleaning charm on his mouth and slid naked into her bed. While he waited for Hermione, Ron silently rehearsed different ways to ask her for anal sex. He'd actually researched (in Muggle women's magazines) what anal sex was like for women, and he had his argument fairly well-formed in his head. Hermione had never been one to turn down a well-researched plan, after all.

"You look deep in thought," said Hermione with a sigh as she climbed into the bed, still wearing her flannel nightie.

"I am," Ron answered. "I'm thinking about what a lucky bloke I am."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron…"

"It's true." He found the hem of her nightgown and worked it up around her hips. Hermione shifted so that he could pull it off. Ron couldn't help but think that the whole exercise of putting it on in the first place was utterly pointless. He kissed her and then whispered, "I love the way you feel."

"Oh Ron," she moaned softly as he caressed her skin and pulled her body tightly against his.

It was moments like this, when she let her guard down and allowed him to touch her the way he craved, that made Ron remember why he continued to put up with all of Hermione's digs and idiosyncrasies. He loved the feeling of her breast in his hand, the way he could rub here and kiss there and – yes – elicit a moan that was so sexy it nearly caused him to explode with lust.

"I want to touch and kiss you everywhere," Ron whispered. "Would you like that?"

Hermione hummed affirmatively and Ron began to make good on his request. He massaged her scalp as he kissed her face and neck, flicked his tongue around her ear and then moved to her shoulders and chest. Despite her relative prudishness, Hermione very much enjoyed having her breasts played with, which was fortunate for Ron since that was one of his favorite pastimes. But he lingered there for only a short while, dragging his tongue across her stomach and toying with her bellybutton. Her hips and legs got the same treatment, and he massaged the arches of her feet while he kissed each toe.

"Turn over," Ron said as he replaced her foot and moved so that she could lay face down on the bed. When she was finally settled again, he asked, "Are you relaxed?"

"I'm getting there," replied Hermione. Ron rubbed her shoulders and laid a trail of kisses down her spine. "If you keep this up, though, I might fall asleep."

"Don't worry, love. I promise you won't fall asleep." He caressed her waist and kissed her back, finally moving his large hands low enough to feel the soft curve of her arse. He moved his fingers gently across the skin, getting closer and closer to her hole with each pass.

Her head was turned the other way, so Ron took the opportunity to grab the lube he'd hidden in the bedclothes and generously slicked up his index finger. When he plucked up the courage, he leaned over her and purred, "Ready to try something new?"

"Like what?" Hermione said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"I've done some research, and it's supposed to be nice for you if I do this." When he said 'this', he slid his finger into her arse, just up to the first joint.

It took Hermione a moment to figure out that the intrusion was Ron's finger. When she did, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. "I don't like that. What are you doing to me?"

"If you just let me go a bit further…"

He tried pushing his finger in more, but she howled, "Stop it, Ron. That hurts!"

Ron withdrew his finger, just as Hermione started in on him. "I don't know where you'd have got the crazy idea that I would somehow enjoy having you shove your finger there."

"Well, it wasn't supposed to hurt if you were relaxed enough. A lot of Muggle women actually enjoy it."

Hermione glared at him skeptically. How in the world would you know that Muggle women like that? It's filthy—"

"I did research!" interrupted Ron.

She wasn't listening, but pulled a face. "And, ew, what did you put inside me?"

"It's a lubricant to, you know, help me slide in better. I was thinking that after you got used to my finger we could try anal sex." Ron was very quiet as he said the last part, and he held his breath to wait for reply.

Hermione had raised herself to her knees so that she was facing Ron. He got the distinct impression that he wouldn't be getting any anal sex that night, and he'd be lucky to get conventional sex at this point. Her brows were furrowed as she said, "I'm not some whore that will bend over and let you do anything your perverted mind wants to do. Normal women don't do that."

"I'm not a pervert," Ron shouted angrily. "And I think you'll find that there are many 'normal' women who do it and enjoy it. God, I just wanted to try something new that I thought you'd like." Ron was so frustrated he could hardly stand it. She was being so stubborn, and she wouldn't even try it to see if he was right. He lowered his voice and tried again. "Hermione, what if we try it one time and see if you like it. If you don't, then I'll never ask again."

"No, Ron. What part of 'I don't want to' didn't you understand? The rectum isn't intended to be a receptacle for your penis, and you could cause permanent damage – and I bet you don't even have a condom, do you?"

"A what?"

"God, I knew it. You are so irresponsible, Ron. It's always about what you want without thinking things through and seeing how it affects _me_."

He started to see the tears welling up in her eyes. Somehow when he was imagining the scenarios, he didn't quite picture this one. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, moving closer to hold her in his arms. He didn't quite know what he was sorry for, though, since he hadn't actually done anything wrong, in his opinion.

Hermione backed away. "I…I don't feel like being with you right now. I think you should go."

"Hermione…"

"I just can't give you what you want, so I think it's best that you leave."

Ron stared at her in disbelief. "I can't believe you're going to make me leave now, especially when you know how excited I am and how much I want you. God, maybe Harry has the right idea."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she spat.

"Women think too much and they overanalyze everything. At least when Harry dates a bloke, they skip the head games and move right on to the sex."

Ron could practically see smoke coming out of her ears when Hermione shouted, "If you're so desperate for anal sex, then go bugger Harry. He'd probably be thrilled to take you up the arse. But leave me alone!" She grabbed her flannel nightgown as she stormed off to the bathroom, leaving Ron stunned and wondering what the hell had just happened to his fantastic plan.

~*~*~

Ron Apparated to his flat and heard a loud noise. Though it was past midnight, Ron hadn't expected to find Harry home since he'd gone out clubbing for the evening.

"Harry?" he called.

"In here," came Harry's voice from the kitchen.

Ron opened the door to find Harry leaning over the counter with a beer in one hand, reading the newspaper wearing nothing but his boxers. Ron's mouth went dry. Harry's arm muscles were flexed as they bore his weight as he leaned against the counter, and his hair was disheveled, the way it normally was. Perhaps it was because he'd been left high and dry at Hermione's flat or her words might have been still echoing in his mind ( _'he'd probably be thrilled to take you up the arse'_ ), but Harry had never looked so good to Ron as he did right now. Ron poured himself a glass of water from the tap in order to get his speaking voice back.

"I thought you were going out," he said.

Harry shrugged, flashing a dimple at Ron as he smiled. "Didn't see anyone I knew, and I hate being there alone because you get stared at like you're a piece of meat – everyone thinks you're just after anonymous sex."

Ron quickly averted his eyes, knowing he'd been staring at Harry like a starving man.

Harry continued, "I thought you'd be staying at Hermione's. How was the big library date?" He snickered as he said it, and Ron wanted to smack him.

"It was every bit as boring as I thought it would be, and then we had a row and she threw me out." Ron took another swallow of water to keep from blurting out that she'd suggested he ask Harry to have sex.

"You didn't break up, though…" said Harry with concern.

Ron shook his head. "No. I don't know why I let her do this to me all the time, though."

"Because you're in love with her?" Harry offered.

Shrugging, Ron said, "Maybe. I don't know for sure if I'm in love with her. I knew right away that I didn't love Lavender, but things with Hermione are so complicated, you know? And then there's you."

"What about me?"

"Well, if we broke up, it would make things weird between the three of us, and I can't let that happen, Harry." Ron sighed, wondering how he'd gotten himself into this mess in the first place.

"Hold on," said Harry. "If you're staying with Hermione because you think it would make things awkward between her and me, that's just wrong. She and I will work things out, just like we did when you started dating." He put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "If you're worried that I'd choose her over you, don't be. You'll always be my best mate, no matter what."

Ron could feel his skin heating up where Harry touched him. "Thanks."

Harry's eyes were only inches from Ron's when he said, "I want you to be happy. You deserve that."

Then, for some unexplained reason, he took several steps away. Ron thought that might be just as well, because he'd been on the verge of hugging Harry after that last remark, which would have embarrassed them both.

"You deserve that, too, Harry. We all do."

Wanting to take his leave before he humiliated himself, Ron finished his water and bade Harry goodnight. He'd just walked out of the kitchen when he heard the sound of glass shattering behind him. Ron rushed back into the kitchen to find that Harry's beer bottle had smashed, making a mess all over the cabinets.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked breathlessly.

Harry didn't look up, but continued to look around for his wand. "Yeah, sorry. The bottle slipped as I was turning around and I accidentally flung it across the room."

Ron raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He couldn't imagine the physics of a bottle 'slipping' out of Harry's hand and crashing with that much force. Harry was upset about something, but if he felt he had to lie to cover it up, then he wasn't ready to talk about it yet. He would, though. He always did.

"Let me help you," said Ron. He swished his wand and said a few cleaning spells, vanishing the mess in no time.

When he finished, he turned to Harry. "You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you. I think I've proven that I can handle it."

Harry nodded. "I know. Someday we'll talk, but not now."

Ron left the room again, never stopping to notice that he was much more worried about his best mate's feelings than his girlfriend's. That observation would have to wait for another day.  



End file.
